Cold as Ice
by ReluctantSlashFan
Summary: On the way to a crime scene, Tony crashes the van into a snowbank. With Ziva and Palmer inside. Things could only get worse from there.
1. Chapter 1

Tony DiNozzo was running late. A winter storm had knocked out the power the night before, and his alarm had neglected to go off that morning. While he was hopping around his kitchen, trying to get his shoe on, his phone vibrated against his counter top. He nearly fell trying to get to the phone, giving up on his shoe for a few seconds to pick it up.

A picture of a Gremlin flashed back at him. He answered the phone with an exasperated, "What, Palmer?"

"_Um, hi, uh, Tony?"_

"Who else would it be?"

"_Uh, yeah, so, uh, Breena was going to give me a ride. But, uh, got, um, called in to, uh, seminar or something and…"_

"Jimmy, I am already a half an hour late. If Gibbs doesn't kill me, he could very well shoot me. So, either you spit it out or hang up."

"_I need a ride_," Palmer said with a sigh.

"Don't you have a car?" Tony grumbled sitting at his kitchen table. He balanced his phone between his shoulder and ear, pulling his shoe onto the wrong foot.

"_It's buried. Under snow. A lot of snow."_

"Did you try digging it out?" Tony questioned with forced calm, pulling his shoe off and placing it on the right foot.

"_Yes, I did, until the…the plow came."_

"Why didn't you call Ziva?"

_"She's already at NCIS, and I didn't want to get her into trouble."_

"And you didn't think, maybe, I'd be at NCIS."

"_Well, Ziva said you hadn't arrived yet. And_…" Palmer trailed off. "_Please, Tony. I…I don't want to make Doctor Mallard anymore mad at me than he already is. I mean, between getting us lost at the last crime scene and losing the Tibia to that body…"_

"Fine, Palmer," Tony sighed taking pity on the 'Autopsy Gremlin.' "I'll be there in fifteen."

"_Thank you, Tony. Thank you. And if there is anything_…" Tony hung up before Palmer could finish his sentence. Tony wasn't mad at Palmer so much as he was for being late. And the prospect of taking the fifteen minute detour to Jimmy's would only make him later. So, with another grumble, Tony pulled on his other shoe, dragged himself to his feet, grabbed his keys off the counter, and headed out the door…

**NCIS**

Palmer paced back and forth across his apartment floor, periodically checking his watch. Tony did say fifteen minutes, it was two minutes past. If Ducky didn't kill him, there was no doubt that Gibbs would.

A knock sounded, causing Jimmy to jump. He raced toward the door, pulling it open to reveal a slightly shivering Tony.

"DiNozzo what took you?" Palmer asked stepping back to let him in.

"Well, Jimmy, seeing as the plow blocked off ninety percent of the parking places in this city. I had to park four fricking blocks away."

"Would you, uh, like some coffee?"

"No, Palmer. I would like to be at work right now. Nice, toasty NCIS headquarters. I would like to see Ziva, Gibbs, hell, even McGee; as long as he was standing someplace warm." Tony shivered again. "Let's go."

"Let me just grab my bag." Jimmy scooped his backpack up off his couch, and followed the grumpy DiNozzo out the door.

It was freezing out, his glasses frosting over within minutes of stepping out the door. Jimmy was damn lucky he actually made it to Tony's car. He thought he heard DiNozzo say something, but the wind carried Tony's voice away.

Once in the car, the heat taking forever to kick on, Tony made the twenty-five minute drive to NCIS. Jimmy tried to make small talk, usually Tony was up for that, but today it seemed nothing would lighten DiNozzo's sour mood.

Once in the Naval Yard, after being waved through by the bundled up security guard, Tony parked next to Ziva's Mini Coop and got out. He pulled his bag from the back seat, grumbling when he almost slipped on some ice, and started carefully fast walking toward the building. Palmer tried to keep up, but slipped twice, and opted to adopt a granny shuffle.

By the time he made it to the building, DiNozzo had just stepped into the elevator. Impatiently, he held the doors for Jimmy, tapping his foot. Once the doors were closed Tony's phone rang.

"Yeah, Ziva?" he was quiet for a second, Palmer just able to make out Ziva's voice. Then he said, "We'll be right there."

"Wait, we?"

"Yeah, Palmer, we." He pressed the third floor button and the elevator jolted to life. Seconds later the doors opened to reveal a very annoyed Ziva. Before Tony or Jimmy could exit the car, Ziva stepped in and pressed the button to the lobby.

"What's up?" Tony asked as the doors slid closed again.

"You are late," Ziva said slowly.

"Way state the obvious, David."

"We have a body," Ziva responded ignoring Tony. "Gibbs wants us to meet him at the crime scene."

"Us? As in, me too?" Jimmy asked curiously, meeting Ziva's eyes briefly.

"No, Palmer, we're gonna leave you in the parking lot," Tony snapped sarcastically.

"Ducky has already made it to the crime scene and asked me to bring you along." Jimmy was impressed by how Ziva wasn't letting Tony's foul mood get to her. Of course, he had a feeling, sometime down the line her patience would wear thin.

"Oh, okay."

They made it to the parking lot (and Jimmy was proud to say he only slipped once, but did not fall) in a matter of minutes. Ziva had had the keys in her hand, intending to get in the driver's side of the van. But before she could open the door, Tony had already snatched the keys out of her hand.

"I don't think so."

"Tony, we are already late as it is. Letting me drive will get us there faster."

"No, letting you drive will get us there in pieces." Tony gestured around him, "And this weather we don't need speed."

Ziva huffed, fixing Tony with one of her 'death' glares. Jimmy wondered if Tony would have a face if looks could kill. "Is this how it is always going to be? You denying me the chance to drive."

"Yes, if you continue to drive like a maniac. Besides, I am the Senior Field. Meaning I get full reign over the van, Probationary Agent David."

"And how am I going to get any better if you do not let me drive, Special Agent DiNozzo?"

Before Tony could respond Jimmy raised his hand and said, "Uh, it's kinda cold out here. And, um, if you guys want I could drive." Palmer didn't know whether to be mad or relieved when they ignored his suggestion and continued their argument…

Twenty minutes later, Jimmy sat in between Ziva and DiNozzo while Tony drove. Palmer hadn't wanted to say anything; the tension in the van could be cut with a knife. So he opted to stare out the windshield watching as the buildings slowly morphed into trees.

"Will you at least let me use the camera? Or am I ill adept to use technology, too? Am I too maniacal to dust for prints? Are you afraid I will corrupt the blood samples if I touch them? Perhaps I should sit in the van while you and McGee collect evidence." Ziva had had kept a steady stream of these little comments since they had gotten on the road.

"You know what. If it'll shut you up. You can drive on the way home. I'm sure McGee will enjoy your company," Tony snapped glancing over at Ziva.

"At least McGee lets me drive," Ziva snapped back.

"Well, if I were McGee I'd have a death wish, too."

"You are not even watching the road."

"I am watching the road just fine…"

Jimmy felt the tires slid before he could full comprehend what happened. The next thing he knew they were tail spinning towards a bank of snow, Tony trying desperately to get the van under control, but to no avail. And as the van slammed headlong into the bank, Palmer jolting forward and cracking his head on the dashboard, his glasses breaking on impact, everything went black…

**NCIS**

**I have no excuse as to why me and Benny are publishing this story right now. Other than we are really tired, it's almost two in the morning here, and did I mention we are really tired? :D Oh, and we like Jimmy and are sad that he isn't featured in more episodes.**

**So, please let us know if we should continue, we do not own anybody remotely familiar, and thanks for reading.**

**Bye... (**Benny waves crazily**)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys, don't kill me. It's been a long time, I know. I am moving, have barely any technology, and Benny took some pity on me and that is where I am now.**

**So, please enjoy this belated chapter, again I apologize (do not blame Benny), and we hope to hear from you again.**

**We own nothing.**

**Bye...**

**NCIS**

McGee could practically feel the anger rolling through Gibbs as he drove back to NCIS. Of course, Tim wasn't exactly super thrilled either. Not only did Tony and Ziva not show up, along with the van, but they were forced to use what little supplies Gibbs' Sedan held.

Plus, McGee had to touch the body, full of maggots and all, when Ducky asked for help when Palmer failed to show up, too. He could still feel the creepy, crawly, eyeless, wriggly things on his hands despite the gloves he had been wearing. His hands needed to be boiled, maybe amputated (too bad he needed them).

Of course, that didn't stop him from _at least_ trying to explain why exactly half of their team didn't show up. "Boss, I'm sure there is a perfectly good…" he trailed off when Gibbs threw him a withering stare. McGee opted to try calling Tony a fourth time, once again getting his voice mail: "_You've reached Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo. You know what to do._"

When the phone beeped McGee whispered, "Tony, Gibbs is beyond pissed, and if you, Ziva, and Palmer aren't dead he may very well take you three out back of NCIS and shoot you. Call me." he hung up, seriously debating whether or not to call Ziva, but before he could make the call Gibbs had already pulled into the naval yard.

"Take the evidence to Abby," Gibbs said once the car was parked, getting out. McGee was going to ask Gibbs what he was going to do, but thought better of it, touching the back of his head unconsciously, practically feeling the head slap.

Tim got out of the car, collecting the evidence and his bag, and followed Gibbs, stopping when he noticed one of the vans missing. Jethro had noticed too, eyebrows furrowed. He headed toward the security shed, Tim steps behind him.

"Who signed out a van today?" Gibbs asked the security guard.

"Uh, just DiNozzo," the guard said looking up from his tiny television and checking the check-in/check-out list.

"What time?" Gibbs questioned his eyebrows furrowing deeper. McGee saw the barely concealed concern on his face.

"Around ten. Why?" Gibbs didn't respond, instead he turned on his heels and hurried into the building. McGee rushed after him.

"Boss?"

"Track their cell phones," Gibbs said without looking McGee's way. Tim hoped (in some moment of insanity) that Tony let Palmer drive and _he_ had gotten them lost. It was a better explanation than what had probably happened.

"On it boss," McGee said following Gibbs into the elevators. Jethro pressed the third floor button, the doors sliding closed…

**NCIS**

_Thud, thud, thud_: Jimmy's was well aware of the drum solo going on inside his head when he came to. He felt something warm and sticky coating the side of his head; his vision was blurry when he peeled open heavy eyelids. Palmer tried to recall what had happened, but it was all tangled up in the fog surrounding his head.

_Think Jimmy, think_, he silently told himself. A flash of two people arguing hit him. _Who had been…?_ And it came rushing back, in nauseating detail. Palmer pushed himself away from the dashboard of the van, his vision still blurry. At first, he thought he had screwed up his eyes, until he touched his face. His glasses were gone, somewhere down by his feet. He tried to bend down, retrieve them, but a wave of dizziness hit him so severely he nearly upchucked all over his front.

He leaned his head back, breathing deeply, closing his eyes. Once he was sure he wasn't going to lose his breakfast, he let his eyes open again. Squinting, he turned his head to the right, barely making out Ziva's shape.

"Ziva," Jimmy said checking her over for injuries. The side of her head would have a good sized bruise and her nose was dripping blood. Palmer let his hands ghost over her, checking for broken bones, but froze when she stirred.

"Tony?" she whispered peeling her eyes open. Palmer could tell it took her a second for her vision to clear, but when she was able to see him Jimmy merely smiled weakly and yanked his hands back. "Is Tony okay?" Ziva asked pushing herself up, barely keeping a wince at bay.

"I don't think you should be…"

"Jimmy, is Tony okay?" Ziva demanded cutting off Palmer.

"I haven't looked at him…" Ziva tried to move, tried to crawl over Palmer to DiNozzo's side, but her whole body seized up before she could make it more than a few inches. She fell back into her seat, breathing heavily through her nose.

"What's wrong?" Jimmy asked worry pulsing through him so fast it wasn't doing his aching head any good.

"Nothing," Ziva grunted through clenched teeth. "I am fine."

"I…I don't think…" Ziva grabbed a fist full of Palmer's jacket, cutting off his stammers, and pulled him toward her with surprising amount of strength for someone who was clearly hurt. "Here is what you are going to do," she started slowly. "Check on Tony for me. Okay Jimmy?"

He gulped, nodding vigorously. She let him go, barely keeping a groan at bay as she turned her head to let it rest against the window. Palmer sat breathing heavily for a few seconds before turning his head to look at DiNozzo.

Tony's head was against the seat, slightly turned toward the window. Jimmy couldn't see any blood, meaning there was a chance DiNozzo wasn't bleeding. But that still didn't mean he was okay.

Jimmy carefully unzipped DiNozzo's jacket, letting his hands ghost over Tony, feeling slightly uncomfortable (he was used to dealing with the dead not living, breathing people), searching him out for any possible injuries. Legs and arms were fine; his neck would probably be just stiff in the morning. Moving on, Palmer started lightly presses on Tony's torso, feeling a couple ribs shift under his hands.

He pulled his hands back, shifting his gaze over to Ziva who had passed out against the glass again. Taking the opportunity, Jimmy searched her out for broken bones. Her clavicle was slowly turning purple, either it was sprained or broken. It explained why she could barely move.

He leaned back against his seat, trying very hard not to panic. Tony had a couple broken ribs, Ziva had a hurt clavicle, and he was concussed. Yet, _he _was going to be the one who had to treat them. And this time he didn't have Mallard there to guide him. _Oh crap…_


	3. Chapter 3

"Anything, yet, McGee," Gibbs' voice snapped just as Tim's computer turned up nothing once again.

"Nothing, yet boss. Half the cell towers have been down since last night's storm. I mean, it could take hours…" a withering stare from Gibbs cut McGee off. He could literally feel himself pale as he hurriedly said, "I'll keep trying."

After ten minutes, McGee still had gotten nowhere. Gibbs didn't say anything, but the look on his face told Tim he was contemplating doing something he did not want to do. If Tim was right, and Jethro was thinking what he was thinking, he agreed with Gibbs.

Silently they had decided not to ask Abby for help. There was no point in worrying her if Ziva, Palmer, and Tony had just gotten lost. But Tim knew they weren't lost, Tony would have found a way to get a hold of them if they were. No, something big had happened, his friends were in trouble. And Palmer.

They had to get help from Abby; she'd stop at nothing to find all three. And Tim could use the help even if it was against his, and more importantly Gibbs', better judgment.

"Do you want me…?" he started.

"No, I'll do it," Gibbs responded glancing toward the back elevators. "Just keep looking, Tim."

Tim? Yep, Gibbs was worried and upset. He was using McGee's first name. The last time McGee heard Gibbs use his first name…

He let the thought trail off, pounding away harder at his computer. He had to find them, like now. Because there was no way in hell he was losing them, too. Even Jimmy Palmer. Not like Kate. Or Shepard. Or any of the countless other friends he had lost. And not for something stupid, like letting Jimmy drive. Which probably was what happened.

Or, that's what McGee was trying to convince himself had happened. He just wished he was a bit more convincing…

**NICS**

Tony woke to a mumbled curse word. His eyes slipped open, Palmer's face swarming around his vision. "Gah!" he exclaimed trying to jolt back. Pain seared his chest and side, his whole body seizing up. The van rocked, more pain spreading through DiNozzo's body, as somebody moved and a familiar voice demanded, "What happened?"

"Tony you need to stay still," Palmer said ignoring the voice, a role of duck tape in his hand.

"Why…?" Tony trailed off, coughing. Each cough hurt his chest, worry pulsing through him. Had he contracted the plague again? Was he dying? _No, no, no…_

"Hey, you have to calm down," Jimmy said hurriedly his face paler than normal; DiNozzo realized he was breathing way too heavy. He was dizzy and his chest was on fire. "You broke a couple ribs and could puncture a lung."

"What…?" Tony managed to choke out when his coughing died down. There was a metallic taste in the back of his mouth. Oh no, he punctured a lung. He was going to bleed to death with Palmer and a pissed off Ziva. And not to mention Jimmy Palmer. He didn't want the last person he saw to be Jimmy Palmer. He was supposed to be eighty, making it with his twenty-year-old mistress. No, wait…

_Great, now that image is stuck in my head_.

Somebody smacked him, a sharp pain across his cheek sending him back to reality. He blinked a couple of times, glaring at Jimmy. Palmer quickly raised his hands, shaking his head feverously. Tony let his eyes flick to Ziva, who was now leaning into her seat breathing heavily, her eyes closed.

"Ow, what the hell? Who hits a dying man?" he demanded.

"You are not dying, Tony," Ziva pointed out letting her eyes open again. "Tell him Jimmy."

"As long as you stay calm and don't move around a lot. You should be okay," Palmer responded still clutching the duck tape, looking between Ziva and Tony with uncertainty in his eyes.

"So, I'm not dying?" Tony asked slowly, a wave of relief rushing through him when Jimmy shook his head. It still hurt to breathe, but at least he wasn't dying. Unconsciously he rubbed his chest when he took another deep breath, trying very hard not to wince at the pain.

"What?" worry flickered across Palmer's face, his eyebrows scrunched up.

"Nothing," Tony said quietly dropping his hand to his side. "What's with the tape?" he glanced at the duck tape again.

"Oh, this," Jimmy chuckled once, holding the roll up, "I read somewhere that if tape is used correctly it could help the pain, plus keep you from moving your ribs too much. It's the only thing I can think of until we can get help."

"So, you use duck tape?" Tony asked still looking at the roll.

"It's the only thing I could find," Jimmy answered sheepishly. "According to the, um, website I'm supposed to, uh, use adhesive tape. But there doesn't seem to, uh, be any." He glanced behind him.

"Palmer," Tony said slowly waiting until Jimmy looked at him. "Do what you have to. Then see if the van will start. It's freezing in here." Tony shivered the seconds the words left his mouth, the action pulling on his ribs.

"I, uh, tried," Jimmy said slowly, averting his eyes. "It won't start."

"Fantastic," Tony muttered. He was quiet for a second, looking past Jimmy to stare at Ziva. "How is she?" he nodded toward the ex-Mossad officer whose eyes had closed once more.

Before Palmer could respond Ziva said, "She is sitting right here. Why not ask her yourself?"

Tony sighed and asked, "How are you doing, Ziva?"

"I am fine," she responded but Tony could tell it was a load of bull. She was holding her right arm against her chest, being very careful not to move it. And when she slapped him she had acted as if the simple action had nearly killed her.

"What's wrong with her?" Tony asked letting his eyes shift to Jimmy.

The 'autopsy gremlin' barely looked up from unbuttoning Tony's shirt as he said, "I think she fractured her clavicle. But I can't be sure until we can get it x-rayed."

"Fine my ass," Tony shot toward Ziva. He then said to Jimmy, "Nothing weird, you hear me?" Palmer chuckled nervously, his hands shaking slightly as he started ripping pieces of duck tape from the roll. "This is gonna hurt like a bitch when the tape's removed, isn't it?"

"You are quite hairy, Tony," Ziva commented flashing him an amused look. He merely glared at her.

"I'm sure it'll be fine," Jimmy lied lamely.

"You are an awful liar, Palmer," Tony pointed out wincing when Jimmy's fingers brushed his injured ribs.

"Sorry," Palmer said quickly. He apologized again when he jostled them a second time.

"I…I think you should stick with the dead, Palmer," Tony said after the third time. His ribs, however, were beginning to feel marginally better. And when Jimmy moved back, offering DiNozzo a bottle of Ibuprofen, Tony was actually considering thanking the 'autopsy gremlin.' But before he could open his mouth, Jimmy was already turning to contend to Ziva.

"I am fine," Ziva insisted.

"Ziva, just let him help you," Tony said tiredly.

"But I am…"

"Ziva."

She sighed, or more like growled, and then said, "Fine. But there is little he can do. It is not broken, just sprained. I have had worse."

"I can at least make you a sling," Jimmy suggested quietly. Tony could tell Ziva didn't exactly want the help. Yes, she was trying to break free from her Mossad image, but old habits died hard. Tony knew this for a fact. He lived by that half the time, too.

He coughed again, enough to make his chest hurt, the metallic taste back. Except, this time, he could taste it on his lips. He put his fingertips to his lips, pulling them away. He glanced at the tips, scarlet catching his attention. _Shit…_

**NCIS**

**I looked up treatment for fractured ribs, so what Jimmy did is on the internet. I'd give you the link, but I'm lazy.**

**Anyway, thanks for reading. Benny and I appreciated all the reviews, alerts, and the support last chapter. And leave a comment if you can.**

**Bye...**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys, what's up?**

**We would like to dedicate this chapter to Shirik. It's her birthday and we hope she has a great birthday.**

**Anyway, thanks so much for the reviews, alerts, and support last chapter. We hope you enjoy this one, and we own nothing.**

**Drop a comment if you can.**

**Bye...**

**NCIS**

Abby loved music, all kinds of music really, but usually gravitated toward Metal. She loved feeling the beat pulse through her bones, hearing the words reverberate in her head. Metal was, in a way, unpredictable-in her opinion. The singer could sing the happiest song, the saddest song, any kind of emotion really, and Abby would still listen to it. Except today, right now…

Of course, when Gibbs had showed up in her lab earlier she _had_ been listening to her metal, fingers flying across her keyboard, but froze when the music snapped off. She wasn't sure if it was the aura in the room, or what, but she knew something was wrong.

"I don't have your results, Gibbs." she hoped if she pretended Gibbs was in her lab for his evidence it would become the truth. "I'll call you…"

"Abbs," Gibbs said slowly.

"…when I get anything remotely helpful," she pressed on, wishing he would just let her play dumb for a while longer. She didn't want to worry, didn't want to be afraid for another one of her friends, a member of her family.

Gibbs didn't say anything, but his silence spoke volumes. She knew she couldn't hide from it anymore, so she took a breath and said, "What's wrong?"

"McGee needs help," Gibbs said slowly.

"With what?" worry was still gripping Abby tightly. There was no need, McGee had needed her help before, she was being silly.

"Ziva, Tony, and Palmer are missing, Abbs."

_I shouldn't have asked. I should not have asked,_ Abby thought feeling tears prickling her eyes. She took another breath and whispered, "W…what do you n…need help with?"

"Pinpointing their location," Gibbs replied. "McGee's having trouble with some tech stuff. We could really use your help."

"Okay, send him down," Abby responded nodding.

That had been almost an hour ago, and still she and McGee had come up with nothing. They had thought they tracked the NCIS van down once, but it turned out to be a false alarm. And with each failure Abby was becoming more and more frustrated.

"Damn it." of course, she had nothing on Tim.

"It's okay, Timmy. We'll find them," she said quietly. He clenched his jaw, glaring at the computer's screen.

"Almost three hours, Abby. They've been gone for almost three hours. We should have gotten something now."

Abby opened her mouth to say something to comfort him, but for the life of her she just couldn't think of anything. And that was rare for her. She liked to talk, loved to talk actually, she'd talk to anyone who would listen. And she was known for talking _way_ too fast about several different things. She had even gotten dizzy a few times while talking too fast because she ran out of breath. She wasn't used to being speechless, but she knew nothing would make McGee feel better until they found their friends.

And, if she were being honest with herself, nothing would make her feel better either...

**NCIS**

Jimmy noticed Tony had been holding his chest more and more with every breath he took, but every time he asked DiNozzo about it, the older man would insist he was fine. Palmer knew Tony was lying, but barring actually pummeling the answer out of him (something Jimmy could never do, even in DiNozzo's condition) he wasn't getting a straight answer.

"Any signal yet, Palmer?" of course, whether or not his injuries were severe, that didn't stop DiNozzo from asking about the cell phones every other minute for the past three hours.

Both Tony and Ziva were in the back, Jimmy having used a couple space blankets to cover them up. It had been a bitch to move both agents. Ziva kept insisted she could walk by herself, but almost crumpled to the ground when she pulled herself into an upright position. While Tony could barely keep hisses and groans at bay when Palmer tried to help him. But both were too stubborn to admit they were hurt, and Jimmy was slowly starting to miss the stiffs back in the morgue. They couldn't lie to him no matter how hard they tried...

Actually they couldn't even try, which made Palmer miss them even more. And, no, he was not thinking about pulling a Pimmy Jalmer on them either. _McGee and his stupid book._

"Nothing yet," Jimmy replied checking the bars on his phone. He wasn't sure if the snow bank was cutting off the signal or if the cell towers were down. Regardless, if _he_ had no bars there was a slight possibility neither Abby nor McGee had gotten any closer to finding them.

"Keep…" Tony coughed, Jimmy crawling toward the agent. He held up a hand, trying to ward Palmer off, more coughs wracking his body.

"Tony, are you okay?" Ziva asked with concern in her voice and eyes, yet her face conveyed nothing. She had been trying to become more human in the years since joining NCIS, but it was still hard to break free of a persona she kept up since she joined Mossad.

"I'm…" DiNozzo coughed harder, his face turning beet red. Jimmy couldn't help noticing the specks of red splattered across his lips.

"You are not fine." Unfortunately so did Ziva.

"What are you…" cough… "talking about…" cough… "Ziva." He coughed harder. "I'm..." cough… "just peachy."

"You are coughing up blood, Tony," Ziva snapped fixing him with one of her death glares, daring him to contradict her. Instead of replying, DiNozzo's coughs dying down, Tony took several wheezing breaths.

"Guys…" he wheezed, his eyes suddenly two green orbs. "I…c…can't…" he wheezed more, clutching his chest tighter. "I…c…can't…breathe…"


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks for the reviews, alerts, and just plain reading. Benny and I appreciate it.**

**On another note: I am not a doctor, nor is Benny. In fact, I doubt anyone would trust us with their lives. We're just not equipped to use sharp, pointed objects :) So, if what Jimmy does in the following situation is wrong, well we're sorry. But please feel free to let us know, just so we can make the next story better. But, I can tell you, with 75 percent surety, that the proceedure Jimmy performs is correctly done. I Googled it :)**

**Anyway, we own nothing, thanks for reading, drop a comment if you can, and see ya in chapter five**

**PEACE OUT...**

**NCIS**

"I c…can't… breathe…" at those words Jimmy's heart nearly stopped, nerves and worry gripping him so tight he almost threw up.

"Tony," Ziva's worried voice cut through Jimmy like a knife, DiNozzo's face slowly turning from red to blue, his body slumping to the floor. DiNozzo was dying, he was dying and Jimmy didn't know what to do. Mallard wasn't here to tell him what to do. He didn't know… He couldn't figure...

"TONY!" Ziva cried when Tony quit breathing, that one scream jerking Jimmy away from his downward spiral. He hopped into action, trying to remember what to do. Ziva had already attempted to start CPR, but Jimmy knew it was no use. It seemed DiNozzo may have damaged his tracheal tube; CPR wasn't going to do much good in the long run.

"Tracheotomy," Palmer muttered. He sprang forward, searching his pockets for a pen or a knife, anything that could help him. He gently pushed Ziva out of the way.

"What are you…?" she started frowning at Palmer for stopping her from helping Tony.

"Do you have a knife?" Jimmy asked ignoring her unfinished question.

"What?"

"A knife," Jimmy snapped Ziva jolting back in surprise, wincing when she jostled her arm. Jimmy barely took any notice, finding a pen in his jacket pocket. Ziva stared at the pen for a second and then it dawned on her what Jimmy was about to do.

She pulled a blade from her boot, with some difficulty as she jostled her injured arm again, and handed it to Jimmy. Palmer pushed himself to his knees, snatching a pair of gloves from the box on the floor. He pulled them on, tossed DiNozzo's space blanket to the side, hurriedly searching out Tony's throat for his Adam's apple.

When he found it, he moved his fingers until he found the cricoid cartilage. He placed the knife between the two, his hand shaking, blinking, trying to be careful not to knick anything vital.

"Have you performed one of these before?" Ziva asked trying to keep the worry out of her voice.

"Yeah," Jimmy replied, voice cracking. Ziva threw him a withering stare. "On a cadaver. But it should be the same thing." He ignored Ziva's muttered curses as he gently sliced a half-inch, horizontal cut across the cricothyroid membrane.

"Okay, Ziva," Jimmy started snatching a single glove without looking. "Put this on and help me." Ziva did as she was asked, taking a couple seconds longer than usual. Once she was gloved, Jimmy instructed her where to put her finger, opening the slit for easier access.

Once down, Jimmy noticed the sweat beginning to appear across her brow. She was using her arm too much, her skin was already paling drastically, and he knew he had to hurry before he lost her help. Ziva was tough, sure, but she wasn't beyond pain. And clavicle injuries were painful, and barely left anyone room for moving. Palmer had to hurry.

He used his teeth to take out the ink part, throwing it to the side. He had Ziva move her hand then inserted the tube into the slit, making sure it was where it was meant to be, breathing twice into the tube. He waited five seconds, breathing twice more. After the third time, Tony's chest started to rise and fall, a small cough escaping his lips as he came to.

"Oh, thank God," Ziva sighed settling against the wall of the van, shivering slightly.

"W…?" Tony tried to speak, freezing when he realized there was a pen sticking out of his throat. He pointed at the pen, questions burning in his eyes.

"You could not breathe," Ziva said, her eyes closed, breathing deeply. "Jimmy saved your life."

"It, uh, it was nothing," Palmer said quietly, taking his gloves off. He threw them to the side, snatching the blanket off the floor. "If you cover the tube you can talk, but I'd advise you not to. It's the only thing keeping you alive. You damaged your trachea…" Palmer sighed. "Why didn't you tell me were you injured that bad?"

Tony's eyes flashed '_didn't know_.' Ziva, having cracked her eyes opened, quietly said, "You are lying." Tony flashed her a '_shut up'_ look.

"Look, whatever the case we need help," Jimmy pressed on running a hand through his hair, suddenly tired, his head pounding against his skull.

"And how do you suggest we get help? In case you have not noticed, we do not have cell service."

"I know," Jimmy said sighing. "Which means," he hated having to say this, but it was the only way, "I'll go ahead. See if I can find a car, or cell reception. Anything that can help us."

"And leave Tony and me alone? I do not know what to do with this." She indicated the tube sticking out Tony's throat.

"It's the only way. Besides, as long as he keeps it still it shouldn't be a problem for an hour."

DiNozzo snatched a notebook and pencil from a shelf behind him, wincing as he moved, and scribbled: _How the hell am I going to do that?_

Jimmy glanced at the duck tape sitting on the floor, his eyebrows furrowing as an idea hit him…

Not long after, both agents covered and leaning against the van's wall, Jimmy jumped down from the back of the van, the chilly air slicing through his jacket. He turned, giving Ziva and Tony one, final worried look before closing the back door…

**NCIS**

Tony glared at the duck tape around the tube scribbling: _this looks stupid_.

"It is keeping you breathing, Tony," Ziva said quietly, her eyes closed. Tony wondered how she knew what he wrote. "Because I know you too well."

_Stop that_, Tony scribbled on the pad. Ziva chuckled. Tony made to write something else, but Ziva quickly said, "He will come back for us. Believe in Jimmy."

_I do. Just not with this_, Tony wrote down and Ziva opened one eye to read it.

"He is not as incompetent as you think, Tony."

_Yeah, tell that to Ducky and every body that had to sit until they showed up._

"This is important. He will come through for us?" Ziva responded softly. She then said, "Did I say that right? Come through?"

_Yeah._

"He will come through. Just have a little faith in Jimmy."

_Easier said than done Ziva_…

**NCIS**

McGee finally locked on a blip, but he wasn't sure whether or not it was something. Abby had been alternating between evidence and GPS tracking and right now she was checking some facts from the results she just got.

"I think I found something," McGee said trying to keep emotion out of his voice.

"So did I," Abby responded walking back toward Tim. "The marine girl had been stung by a bee, she died of asphyxiation."

"How can you tell?"

"Her records said she was allergic. I have to check with Ducky, but it seems she died accidently…"

"At least there isn't a murderer out there," McGee muttered trying to zoom in on the blip.

"I didn't think of that," Abby said sounding worried. Tim glances at her, noticing the tears threatening to fall, and said, "I didn't mean… Abby please don't…"

"What did you do?" a voice said from behind McGee. Tim turned, Gibbs standing above him with his arms crossed.

"N…nothing," McGee stammered. "I just… And she…" McGee trailed off, albeit pathetically, and said, "I got a blip…" he pointed at the screen, Gibbs squinting in order to see it. The older man then straightened up, meeting McGee's eyes. "Is this where they are?"

"It's the closest to… And I can't be sure…"

"Yes or no, McGee?"

"It looks like." Gibbs nodded once, heading toward the door.

"Hurry up, Elf Lord. You're driving." McGee stood up, Abby planting a kiss on his cheek, and rushed out of the lab with a red face, his computer in his hand. They were closer to finding the others; they were closer to getting them back. Tim just hoped they were alive…


	6. Chapter 6

**The beginning takes place around the time McGee had gotten the blip only to transition into McGee and Gibbs following said blip. Just a quick warning :D**

**Enjoy...**

**NCIS**

**Twenty Minutes Earlier…**

It had started to snow about a minute after Jimmy left the van; big, white, cotton ball like flakes that stuck to Jimmy's clothes and hair. He could have handled the snow, no problem, if it wasn't for the other stuff…

The farther he walked on, checking his phone every so often, the dizzier he got. He wasn't sure if he had low blood sugar (he hadn't eaten since early that morning) or if his concussion was finally making itself known now that he wasn't taking care of anyone, but whatever the case he knew he had to keep going. Ziva and Tony needed him now.

An icy wind blew past Palmer, he shivered crossing his arms. He nearly stumbled over his own feet, barely managing to catch himself. His already fuzzy vision blurred drastically, the headache he had had since he woke up flaring worse. He had enough time to see the two bars on his cell before he collapsed in a heap…

**NCIS**

**Present Day…**

They had been on the road for a little over twenty minutes, Gibbs' foot to the floor. The older man hadn't said a word to McGee since they left NCIS, not since Tim patiently explained that if he drove he wouldn't be able to see the computer screen and give Gibbs directions. Tim wasn't sure if the silent treatment was because he unintentionally embarrassed his boss or if Jethro was concentrating on driving. So, McGee opted to just keep quiet when he wasn't giving directions.

"Stop here," McGee said suddenly and Gibbs slammed on the brakes, barely keeping the car under control. Once completely stopped, Tim's breakfast threatening to make a second appearance, both men hopped out of the Sedan.

"I don't see anything," Gibbs snapped at McGee.

"The computer says they should be…" Tim trailed off, noticing a dark, lumpy figure lying underneath a pile of snow. McGee left his computer on the passenger seat, racing toward the lump, nearly slipping on the ice. He skidded to a halt next to the figure, kneeling down.

He started brushing snow from the figure, the snow biting into his exposed flesh making his fingers burn from the cold, and soon revealed a glasses less Jimmy Palmer.

"Boss, it's Palmer," he said over his shoulder. Gibbs was already on his phone, calling for a bus. McGee turned back to Jimmy, checking the autopsy gremlin for a pulse. He found a sluggish one amongst freezing skin; dried blood coated the left side of his head.

"McGee, stay with him," Gibbs said once he hung up his phone. "I'm going to find Ziva and Tony." And before McGee could protest, his boss had already trekked on ahead. Tim watched Gibbs' retreating form for a second then turned his eyes back to Palmer.

Tim and Jimmy weren't particularly close. Palmer gravitated more towards Tony than McGee, but that didn't mean Tim couldn't be worried about Ducky's assistant. Of course, his worry intensified tenfold when Gibbs returned several minutes later, empty handed.

"Did you find…?"

Jethro didn't verbally respond, but the furrowed eyebrows told McGee all he needed to know. "Well, we can't just…"

"We're not, McGee. We'll wait until the bus gets here then split up," Gibbs said slowly sirens wailing distantly in the background. McGee nodded, glancing down the way he thought Jimmy had come. In all honesty, the snow pretty much covered most of Palmer's footprints. No one really knew which way he had come but him.

_And his sense of direction sucked on a good day…_

**NCIS**

Ziva had been dozing when something was shoved in her face. She peeled one eyelid open and read: _Where's Palmer and don't fall asleep._

"I am not sleeping, Tony. And I do not know where Jimmy is." She wouldn't admit it aloud, but she was slowly starting to get worried. It wasn't like Palmer would abandon them and it had only been twenty-five minutes since his departure, but something told Ziva something had gone wrong.

_Fine, but don't go to sleep._ Tony didn't exactly write '_you might not wake up'_, but Ziva could sense the underlying message in his note. There was a chance they wouldn't wake up if they fell asleep. It was bad enough the temperature had already dropped several more degrees since they had been left alone, and both had been shivering worse and worse.

It was quiet for a few seconds then Tony started scribbling. He flashed Ziva a: _I wish we had the radio._

"Why, so we can listen to your awful music."

_Hey, classic rock is not awful. It's got character…_

"It's a bunch of men screeching about sex, drugs, and rock and roll. They wore horrible clothes, had horrible hair, and sometimes even dressed like women."

_Hey, I don't listen to Bowie, okay._

Ziva whispered something in another language, sighed, and said, "How are you doing?"

She gave Tony a withering stare and he crossed out whatever he had written and wrote something new. He showed her the paper: _It's uncomfortable having a piece of pen sticking out of my throat. And stop doing that._

"That is it? Only the pen is uncomfortable."

_Yeah._

Ziva knew he was lying. Several times Tony had rubbed his chest, had winced when he moved too quickly, and had wrapped his arm around his abdomen a few times. Jimmy had to hurry; otherwise, DiNozzo might not make it…

**NCIS**

**I know this is short, and Benny and I apologize for that, but we wanted to get something out to you guys.**

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	7. Chapter 7

McGee watched as Palmer was loaded into an ambulance. His vitals hadn't been ideal, in fact, they were almost below average, and the bus had to get him to the hospital as soon as possible. Once the doors were closed, the sirens flicking to life, the ambulance sped away.

"I got a hold of Ducky and Abby," Gibbs said coming up behind Tim. "They're on their way to the hospital." McGee didn't respond, his eyes still locked on the ambulance. "Hey, he'll be fine," Gibbs reassured him.

"We barely found Palmer in time," McGee said quietly. "Tony and Ziva…"

"Hey," Gibbs said moving around Tim. McGee slowly looked up, green eyes locking on blue, and his boss continued. "We will find them. You hear me."

"But boss what if…" _Whack:_ McGee winced when Gibbs' hand met the back of his head.

"We'll find them."

"Okay."

"Okay." Gibbs stepped away from him. He moved toward his car, popping the trunk. Gibbs headed to the back of the car, opening the trunk all the way. He dug around inside, pulling out two radios. He shoved one a McGee, pocketed the other, and shut the trunk.

He started back the way he had come from earlier, McGee hurriedly racing to catch up.

"How far did you get, boss?" Tim asked slipping on a piece of ice. Gibbs caught his arm before he could fall, steadying him.

"Here," Jethro responded letting McGee go. He pointed at a set of rapidly disappearing footsteps. "I was figuring we could split up. Keep in contact."

"Okay."

"Head that way, meet back here in fifteen."

"Okay." McGee and Gibbs split up, Tim flashing his boss one final look before the tan jacket disappeared into a bushel of trees. _Please let us find them…_

**NCIS**

_Please let them find us,_ Ziva thought barely keeping a shiver at bay. She glanced over at Tony, who hadn't moved much in the past ten minutes. He was shaking violently, barely able to keep the tremors at bay. He was going downhill fast and Ziva had no clue how to stop it.

_You okay?_ Was shoved under her nose, the notebook shaking in Tony's loose grasp.

"I was going to ask you the same question," Ziva answered concern gripping her stomach tight and not letting go.

_I'm good._ Was messily written and showed to her. It was a testament to how bad Tony's was getting, the simple two word answer. DiNozzo could get the Abbys sometimes. It was syndrome she made up where someone talked a lot. Sometimes Ziva wondered if Tony just liked the sound of his own voice. Other times, she knew it was for a distraction. But now, he could neither listen to his voice nor distract anyone.

"I am sure Jimmy has gotten help by now," Ziva said slowly, allowing Tony to lie to her. It was better than pushing for an answer he probably couldn't give even if he wanted to.

_Yeah._

"And we will be out of here in no time." Ziva waited for the response; panic tromping on her worry when one didn't come. She glanced over at Tony, whose head had fell onto her shoulder. "Tony," she said slightly shaking him. "No, Tony come on. Wake up." she encouraged him to no avail. "Anthony DiNozzo you wake up!"

Ziva's eyes were stinging, her vision blurring, but she ignored it. All that mattered was Tony wouldn't wake up. He wouldn't wake up and there was no telling if Jimmy had gotten help or not. She wasn't sure what the correct American term was, but they were _nailed._ Totally nailed.

**NCIS**

McGee tripped over his own feet again, a cold chill running down his spine as a breeze blew past him. There had been no calls from Gibbs, nothing suggesting he had found anything, and their fifteen minutes were almost up.

Tim was continuing to feel increasingly frustrated by the whole damn situation. They should have been found by now. Why haven't they been found, yet?

He wasn't paying attention otherwise he would have seen it before slamming his knee into a something solid. He glanced up, the NCIS van looming over him.

"B…boss I found them," he said into his radio before tearing the door open. Ziva looked up at the sudden action, her dark eyes locking on McGee's.

"Help him," she said shivering slightly.

"_McGee I'm heading to you. How are they?"_

"Ziva's pretty banged up, but Tony worse off. Boss, he needs help now…"

**NCIS**

**We know this is short and we apologize, but we promise next chapter will be longer. And we are predicting probably two or three more. But most likely two.**

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	8. Chapter 8

Palmer came to slowly, a steady beeping keeping time with his slowly beating heart. He peeled heavy eyelids open, his blurry vision slipping in and out of focus. His head was foggy, but he knew there was something he was forgetting. Someone was hurt. Who…?

"Oh my God," he exclaimed trying to sit up. A pair of hands easily pushed him back, a familiar voice saying, "Calm down, Mr., Palmer."

"Dr. Mallard?" Palmer murmured and a fuzzy pair of blue eyes, behind a pair of spectacles, appeared above him. "Where are Tony and Ziva?" Jimmy asked his eyelids feeling heavy.

"They're on their way," Ducky said quietly, his face unreadable. "Perhaps you should go back to sleep."

"Are they okay?" Palmer demanded ignoring Mallard's suggestion. He had left them in bad shape, tried to get help, and… and...

He had lost time, how much he wasn't sure, and he didn't like it. He couldn't even remember if he had gotten them help.

"I cannot be sure until they get here," Ducky said calmly, removing his hands from Jimmy's chest when he was sure he wasn't going to move. "I'm more worried about you right now."

"Why?" Jimmy was confused. Why would Mallard be worried about him?

"You were dehydrated, wounded, but still tried to walk in the snow. Mr. Palmer that was very dangerous, especially with your condition," Ducky reprimanded, but his expression wasn't disapproving. It was full of pride.

"Tony and Ziva needed help," Palmer responded sheepishly. "I wasn't going to let them…"

"Of course you weren't, lad," Mallard said his voice softening. "It's just…"

"I worried you," Palmer supplied for Ducky when he neglected to come up with the correct words.

"Yes, you did," Ducky replied smiling slightly.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Mallard," Jimmy said quietly.

"Don't let Jethro hear you say that."

Ducky's phone went off, breaking up their conversation, and he took the call in the hallway. He was gone for less than a minute, only to return looking harried.

"What's wrong?" Palmer asked suddenly worried.

"Tony and Ziva have arrived," Ducky responded and rushed back out of the room. No elaborating, nothing remotely useful to appease Palmer's worry. So, Jimmy figured he had to get the facts himself.

He pushed himself up, wincing as he detached his IV. He pulled the pulse meter from his finger, dragging himself out of bed. He nearly fell, but managed to keep himself upright by grabbing the tray bolted to the wall. Palmer took a moment to compose himself before he hurried after Ducky…

**NCIS**

McGee sat in the waiting room's chair, left leg bouncing, green eyes locked on the floor. His hands were clasped in front of him, clenching and unclenching every time a new emotion rolled through him.

They had been at the hospital for a little over twenty minutes. Ziva sat across from him, arm in a sling, barely moving a muscle, not saying a word. In fact, she hadn't said a word since asking McGee to help Tony.

The EMTs had to bring Tony back twice on the way to Bethesda, the tracheotomy Palmer performed giving DiNozzo borrowed time at best. Two doctors had met the EMTs at the door, and they hadn't heard anything on him, yet. But, it had only been twenty minutes. McGee didn't expect anything for a while.

"Ducky's on his way down," Gibbs said hanging his phone up, moving toward the others. Tim studied his boss for a few seconds, trying to determine his state of mind, but Jethro Gibbs had never been easy to read. And today wasn't any different.

"Gibbs, how bad was Tony?" Abby asked quietly, sitting next to Tim. She had been in the cafeteria when Tony had been brought in and neither McGee nor Ziva had been in the mood to tell her anything. Tim could tell she was frustrated, they all were on some level, but he didn't trust his voice.

Gibbs didn't verbally respond to her, but the look he flashed her was answer enough. It pretty much said 'I'm not sure and I'm not happy about it.' Abby bit her lip and let her eyes lock on the floor.

"Jethro," Ducky's voice called from the elevators and the ME moved as fast as he could toward the group. In his wake, barely keeping up and looking loads better than the last time McGee had seen him, was Palmer. Ducky didn't look pleased that his assistant followed him, but he chose not to say anything.

"Hey Duck," Gibbs said quietly.

"How bad was Anthony?" Ducky questioned getting pretty much the same answer Abby got.

"What on earth happened?" Ducky demanded looking at Ziva and then Palmer. He waited, McGee knowing Ziva probably wasn't going to say anything, and then Jimmy broke and gave the Palmer-fied version of what happened.

It took fifteen minutes and six growled 'Palmers' from Gibbs before the younger ME finished his story. Ziva hadn't looked up from the floor as he spoke, the hand on her uninjured arm clenching and unclenching as Jimmy spoke.

When he finished it was quiet for a good two minutes and then Ducky said, "You performed a tracheotomy?"

"Yes," Palmer replied nodding.

"By yourself?"

"You don't have to sound so surprised," Jimmy said furrowing his eyebrows.

"I'm sorry…"

The room lapsed into silence once more, Gibbs taking a seat while Ducky scolded Jimmy back to his room. McGee kept flashing back to Tony and Ziva in the back of the van. The latter covered in blood and bruises, holding her right arm against her stomach, her eyes two orbs of concerned fear as she begged McGee to help DiNozzo.

And DiNozzo: the usually talkative Special Agent lying so still, with a pen sticking out of his throat, barely breathing, not waking up. No amount of coaxing did him any good, and when he was loaded in the ambulance. When the EMT shouted at his partner to hurry; it was enough to make McGee ill.

Ducky joined them a few minutes later, taking a seat next to Gibbs. No one spoke for the next two hours, nobody moved (unless they got up to update Palmer).

"Are you all here for Agent DiNozzo?" a voice said breaking up the silence and making Abby and Tim jump. The entire group glanced up, a doctor standing in the doorway.

"Yeah," Gibbs responded first, getting to his feet. McGee and Ducky copied him, Abby grabbing Tim's hand. "How's my agent?"

"I had to repair Agent DiNozzo's trachea. Sometime in the crash it must have been damaged, and he must have injured it further during the wait. In fact, had it not been for the emergency tracheotomy, there is a good chance DiNozzo could have died." _Go Jimmy, _McGee couldn't help thinking. "DiNozzo will need to be intubated for a few days, but he should make a full recovery."

"So, he will be okay?" Ziva asked, speaking for the first time. McGee knew she wasn't asking because she didn't understand, the relief that crossed her face was proof enough that she did. It was most likely to reassure herself that this wasn't a dream. That she still wasn't stuck in that van, watching her friend die.

"Yes," the doctor responded noticing the same thing Tim did.

"Can we see him?" Abby asked getting to her feet, still holding Tim's hand.

"Once he's been moved to a room," the doctor responded with a nod, "but only two at a time."

The doctor spoke a few more words before leaving the team alone. Abby moved across the room to Ziva, giving her a hug. Ducky scurried off to tell Palmer the good news. Gibbs ran his hand down his face, his relief flashing across his eyes, before muttering something about getting a cup of coffee.

McGee just sat down, staring at the floor again. He had so many thoughts and emotions running through his head he couldn't quite pinpoint them all. But the one thing he knew for sure was Tony DiNozzo was going to be okay. That he took another hit, worse than most he had taken, but was still around. Still fighting.

Now he just had to worry about Tony using his injury for sympathy. Because with DiNozzo, it was bound to happen…

**NCIS**

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	9. Epilogue

**Yep two chapters for the price of one :D**

**NCIS**

**Epilogue…**

**Two weeks later…**

Palmer was working steadily on a report, headphones blaring music in his ears. He was oblivious to the elevators dinging, was unaware of the presence behind him, until a hand clamped on his shoulder.

He gave a very _manly _shriek as he pulled the ear buds from his ears, turning to see DiNozzo trying very hard to keep a straight face.

"My God, DiNozzo," Palmer snapped getting to his feet. "Don't do that."

"Sorry," Tony said in a hoarse voice. It had gotten better since his injury, but was still going to take some time to heal. He had only been back to work for a few days, mostly getting the attention from the female personal as he dramatized his injury. Palmer had no doubt that DiNozzo's throat was still bothering him, but not enough where he had to write down his messages (something he'd done to the new mailroom attendant).

"What's up?" Jimmy asked turning back to collect his papers, shuffling them.

"I just…" Tony trailed off, the sounds of him scratching his head following. "Thanks, Palmer."

"For?"

"Saving my life," DiNozzo responded awkwardly. "If it wasn't for you…"

"You're welcome," Jimmy replied saving Tony from saying more. "You would have done the same for me."

"That's the thing, Jimmy. I wouldn't have. Because, I probably wouldn't have known how…"

"Oh, well it's really easy. All you have to do is…"

"Palmer, just take the compliment and leave it at that," Tony said cutting the 'gremlin' off. Autopsy fell silent for a few seconds then Tony took a breath and said, "So, I guess we're even now?"

"Even?"

"I gave you a ride, you saved my life. You know, even…"

Palmer wanted so badly to say '_Even? Tony you _only_ gave me a ride. I am the reason you are still breathing_,' but thought better of it. Besides, it was better just to agree with Tony DiNozzo.

So, Jimmy smiled and said, "No problem, DiNozzo.

"Uh-huh," Tony said moving toward the door. Before he was out, though, he turned and asked, "By any chance can you give me a ride home? My car got snowed in last night."

"Yeah, Tony, I'll give you a ride."

"Good, it was either ask you or Ziva." And he was gone. Jimmy watched the door for a few seconds before shaking his head and putting his papers away. As glad as he was they were all fine, that the accident wasn't more damaging than it could have been, Palmer still wondered if any of that would have happened if Ziva had been driving.

Would they have crashed van? Maybe they wouldn't have. It had been those two fighting that caused the accident in the first place.

_Hell, Ziva could have killed us,_ Palmer thought with a sigh. Running a hand through his hair, he shrugged." I guess we'll never know," he said quietly before turning to the body on the slab. "And you, Gunnery Sergeant Adams, need to be put back in your freezer."

Jimmy paused for a second, while getting the gurney, a small smile on his lips. "Did I ever tell you about the time Agent Dinozzo crashed the van into a snow bank?" He pushed the gurney next the Sergeant before continuing. "It was a riveting tale and it all started with me calling him for a ride…"

**FIN...**

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